by Julie Kenner
Not once until about six months ago, when he’d come home from a particularly bad date, called Ella on the phone to bitch about the so-when-will-you-join-a-big-law-firm-and-be-a-partner? bimbo he’d escorted to dinner and suddenly realized.
Ella.
The woman who’d been there in front of him all along. She was the woman for him. Absolutely and one hundred percent.
Not that he’d been able to tell her. Not then. The downside of knowing a woman as well as he knew Ella was that he was all too familiar with her quirks relating to relationships. If an ex-boyfriend said he really just wanted to be friends, no problem. But if the poor guy still had a boner for her—or, even worse, flat out said he was still in love with her—then once broken up, they were really broken up. She even went so far as to delete his entry from her Palm Pilot.
“Too awkward,” she’d told him once. “Billy Crystal was only half right,” she’d explained, referring to When Harry Met Sally, one of her favorite movies. “Guys and girls can be friends. Look at us. But only if sex and romantic love never enter the equation. If they do, every chance for happily ever after is shot to hell…” She’d trailed off, shaking her head, but he’d known what she’d meant. Ella’s life hadn’t been easy, and she’d survived the rough places by acting tough. Underneath it all, though, she was a cockeyed optimist, absolutely certain that everything would be rainbows and sunshine in the end. Hell, maybe that’s why she clung so fiercely to adventures like skydiving and rappelling—she innately believed that nothing could possibly go wrong, that the only possible outcome was a good one.
“God, can you imagine if we’d ever slept together?” she’d asked him during that same conversation. “How would I have lived without you in my life all these years?”
It had been a rhetorical question, and one he hadn’t bothered answering. They’d never dated in high school or college, unless you counted the string of double dates, including a lot of dates-gone-bad where the two of them had ended up talking together in the bowling alley or on the dance floor while their respective dates had gotten plastered or flirted with someone else.
As the years passed, he dated often and sex was a given, of course. On occasion, he and El would get sloppy drunk and joke about going to bed, but they were never serious. They’d known each other for years—years—so why was he suddenly seeing her in a different light? Desperation born of the fact that he hadn’t yet met another woman who could make him laugh as she did? Another woman he wanted to spend hours with watching late-night episodes of Monty Python?
No, it was more than that. Ella wasn’t a last resort, she was his only resort. It had just taken him an ungodly amount of time to realize it.
And now—this week—he’d realized something else, too: he had to tell her. He had to risk everything and tell his best friend that he loved her.
Of course, a part of him believed that if he told Ella how he felt, it wouldn’t be unrequited. Or, even if it was, that she’d put him in some stratosphere different from the other men in her life. Him she’d surely keep in the Palm Pilot.
Trouble was, he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t imagine Ella ever shoving him out of her life. But things happened every day that he couldn’t imagine. Like, for example, him moving back to Texas. Who would have thought after managing to escape the hellhole that had been his childhood that he’d willingly go back?
But here he was, two days shy of leaving New York to head back to Houston, Texas, to join a handpicked Justice Department task force. A huge vote of confidence for a second-year attorney, especially when coupled with his superior’s promise that if he did as well as they were expecting, he’d be transferred to D.C. once the task force disbanded.
Working for the U.S. Attorney’s office in D.C. Now that was a gamble worth taking. He’d be a fool to walk away. And where his career was concerned, Shane was no fool.
About Ella, though…on that front, he’d admit to a little foolishness, especially lately. Foolishness with an edge, though. Foolishness with a plan.
For the past two years, he’d helped put away some of the nastiest criminals to face the Justice Department. He’d aced law review, interned for two federal judges and basically kicked butt where the law was concerned. He could plan, collect evidence and cross-examine a witness with the best of them. He might be raw, but he was getting better every day. Honing his skills, building his craft.
Now he was going to put those skills to work for personal reasons. He was going to tell her. Today. And he was going to prove to her that he was the man she belonged with, that she was his and always had been, even before either of them had realized it. He’d procrastinated for six months, but now he was on the verge of heading back to Texas. He couldn’t wait any longer.
But it wasn’t just the trip that was prodding him forward now. If that were it, he could take the coward’s way out, fly to the new job, get settled, then fly back up to talk to Ella.
But there were other factors in play now. From what Ella had been saying recently, Tony was going to propose soon. And Shane couldn’t lose her that way—not because some other man took her right out from under him. Especially when Tony was the wrong man for her. And Shane had no doubt that Tony was wrong. Ella was enamored, that much was true. But she was also trying too hard, smoothing out her own edges so that she could fit into the box that Tony expected her to fit into.
If, at the end of the day, she chose Tony, then so be it. But she needed to know all the facts. And the one big glaring fact was that Shane loved her. He wanted her. And they fitted together smoothly, perfectly without one alteration to her rough edges.
He knew that fact without a doubt, even as much as he knew that Ella might fight that simple truth. She had her reasons for wanting Tony, and he understood them. That understanding gave him an advantage, one he intended to use.
He glanced toward the kitchen, where he’d left his briefcase, smiling when he remembered what it contained. Not briefs and notes and legal memorandums, but still something he’d put all of his skill into creating. A little bit of demonstrative evidence for the plan he’d come to think of as Shane v. Tony, Judge Ella presiding.
He knew he might end up destroying their friendship. But he had to take the risk. Because, for the first time in their lives, another man might claim her for good. And Shane wasn’t about to lose without even being in the game.
He’d win her over. He’d do it tonight.
Because in this game, Shane didn’t intend to play fair.
2
ELLA PRESSED HER LEGS tightly together, determined not to let her imagination get the better of her. Were the fantasy about Tony—or anyone else, for that matter—she might have just gone with the flow. Even better, she might have headed home, drawn a hot bath, then lay naked on her bed and…
But this was Shane in her head, and he really had no business being there. More to the point, she had no business putting him there. He was her best friend, not her lover, and these wild thoughts were nothing more than the product of an active imagination. Really.
It took a more or less superhuman effort—and a Diet Coke from the machine on the first floor—but Ella managed to get her mind off Shane. Or, more to the point, off the vision of a hot and sweaty Shane who was doing absolutely delicious things to her body.
Her Shane wasn’t dangerous. This imaginary Shane, however…
Ella let out a low, involuntary moan, hiding the reaction by taking the last swallow of soda, then tossing the can into the garbage. She headed back to her study carrel, her mind wandering back to her friend despite every effort to shift her thoughts to something less dangerous, like, say, nuclear holocaust.
No such luck, and with a sigh she gave in, accepting the fact that, for whatever reason, Shane was on her mind.
That wasn’t even the problem, actually. He’d certainly been on her mind before. He was her best friend, after all. She thought about him all the time. But thoughts of a hot, naked, sexy Shane…a Shane whose rough fingers touched h
er and stroked her…
She shook her head, settling back into her seat. That Shane didn’t belong in her thoughts. More importantly, she didn’t know where the thoughts had come from. He was her friend. He had never even been on her nonplatonic radar. Not even one little bit.
They knew each other too well, too intimately, and nothing had ever once happened. In college, they’d slept over at each other’s dorms, camped out in hotel rooms when they’d traveled back to Texas and been in every type of closed-quarter sort of situation. She’d never wanted to sleep with him.
Until today.
No, she corrected. She did not want to sleep with him. And even if she did—a teeny, tiny little bit—she wasn’t stupid enough to go through with it. Shane was too important to her. And so, for that matter, was Tony.
Frustrated, Ella shoved her books aside, then rubbed her temples. As Saturdays went, this one was really not going well.
“I’ve got some Advil in my purse if you need it.”
Ella jumped at the calm voice behind her laced with just a bit of humor. Veronica Archer, her professor for Lit 317, Erotica and the Victorian Society. And her friend.
When Ella spun around, she saw that Ronnie was smiling, and she returned the grin. Veronica Archer was stunningly beautiful and extremely self-assured, but she’d never seemed unapproachable.
“What are you doing among the stacks on a Saturday?”
“Looking for you, actually,” Ronnie said. “I called your apartment and Shane told me you were camped out here working on a paper for my class.”
“You talked to Shane?” Ella fought to keep her voice from squeaking.
“Like I said, he told me you were here.”
“Oh.”
Ronnie’s brow furrowed and she looked over Ella’s shoulder at the open page of text. A slow grin spread across her face. “Well, that explains why you looked so distracted when I walked up.”
Ella snapped the book shut. “Don’t tease me. I’ve got an academic interest only. You should know. It’s your class I’m working on.”
“I’m not teasing. I’m totally serious. You’re the one who told me Tony’s about to pop the question. Is it really that big a stretch to assume the direction your mind is going when reading erotica?”
“Oh. Right. Tony. Yes.” She drew in a breath and told herself to just shut up because babbling really wasn’t working for her.
“Weren’t you—oh.”
Ella closed her eyes and counted to five. “There’s no ‘oh’ about it,” she finally said when she looked Ronnie in the face again. “My mind was just wandering. That’s all.”
“To Shane,” Ronnie said. She nodded sagely. “Interesting.”
“Excuse me? What are you talking about?”
“Admit it,” Ronnie retorted, “you were thinking about Shane when I came up. That explains that little catch in your voice.”
“There was no—”
Ronnie shut her up with a wave of her hand.
“Fine. I was thinking about Shane,” Ella admitted. “My best friend is packing up and moving fifteen hundred miles away from me. I’ve been thinking about him a lot.” As soon as she spoke the words, relief flooded her. Of course! That’s why she’d been lusting after Shane. It was so simple, any Psych 101 student would see it: she’d been feeling frustrated and angry when she couldn’t beg and plead and force Shane to stay in New York with her. So her subconscious was coming up with alternative methods of persuasion—seduction.
It wasn’t lust. It was selfishness. Her id wanted Shane to stay in New York. Her psyche wanted its best friend.
What a relief. And thank goodness she’d taken that psych course, or she might never have realized the source of that absurd daydream. She and Shane, doing it like that. Doing it at all. The idea was ridiculous. Unthinkable.
And so damned appealing.
No! She sat up straighter, determined to keep her thoughts in check. “I’m just bummed that he’s leaving,” she said firmly. “That’s all.”
The teasing expression on Ronnie’s face was replaced by one of genuine understanding. “I know, kid. He said he was heading out on Monday. You must be terribly sorry to see him go.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I’ll really miss him.”
A beat, and Ella held her breath, wondering if Ronnie was going to shift the conversation back to erotica. Wondering even more if Ronnie was going to push for a more full description of Ella’s recent fantasies.
But Ronnie simply nodded toward the exit. “Let’s get a coffee. I have some news about your internship application.”
And right then all thoughts of Shane evaporated. Ronnie had come here to talk about Ella’s career, not her libido. And work was the one thing that never failed to snare Ella’s full and complete attention.
ELLA STARED AT RONNIE over her coffee, not quite sure she comprehended what her friend was saying.
“I really got it? The internship at the Metropolitan Museum?”
Ronnie laughed and twirled the spoon in her coffee. “You really got it. I bumped into Dean Rostow earlier and he mentioned that he was going to tell you on Monday. I begged a little, and since I wrote one of your recommendation letters, he said I could go ahead and tell you if I saw you.” Her smile widened. “So I’ve been searching the library for hours trying desperately to locate you.”
“Thank you!” Ella flung her arms out across the table to hug her friend. The internship at the Metropolitan Museum—working directly with the curator—was both coveted and incredibly hard to obtain. Ella had been cultivating relationships, hoping for recommendations, since she’d been a freshman undergrad. She almost couldn’t believe that her persistence had paid off.
“Why not?” Ronnie asked when Ella voiced the thought. “You worked much harder than all the other applicants. Why shouldn’t it be you?”
“I don’t know.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I guess I still have a hard time believing how great everything has gone for me these past couple of years.”
Ronnie’s smile was kind. “Why shouldn’t it go well? You work your tail off, don’t you?”
“Hell, yes,” Ella said. She nodded, the motion somehow boosting her confidence. “I deserve this, don’t I?” Maybe life had been more difficult back in Texas, but that was why she’d left, right? So she could get away from the sorry life she’d had there and find a satisfying existence. She’d done it and she should be proud. And she was.
Ronnie put a hand over hers and squeezed, teacher and friend. “You totally deserve it.”
“Wow.” Ella shook her head, still not quite able to process the information. “Do you have any idea how good a stint like this is going to look on my résumé?”
Internships were highly competitive and depended significantly on who you knew. Ella’s grades were stellar, but this was her first year in the program, which meant she was low on the totem pole. But that hadn’t daunted her. She’d had her heart set on two internships since she’d entered the program—one for each summer of her master’s studies. The field was extremely competitive. With two internships, her odds of finding a job that was both financially and emotionally rewarding increased significantly.
The ironic part, of course, was that her mother had given her that bit of advice. As far as love, care and support went, Cecilia Davenport fell flat as a mother. But for career planning? Well, that was where Ella’s mom truly shined.
She took a deep breath and laughed again, still overwhelmed by her good fortune. “Sorry. I’m just so excited. This is huge. I mean, an internship like this could lead to a job. Can you imagine? Working at the Metropolitan Museum fresh out of school?”
“If anyone can do it, you can. You’re the most motivated student I’ve seen in a long time.”
“You’re just saying that because I make great margaritas.”
“You’re from Texas—you’re supposed to be able to make all variety of drinks from tequila. And I’m not saying it because you ply me with alcohol. I’m
saying that because it’s true.” She cocked her head and studied Ella. “Speaking of alcohol…we haven’t had a wild night on the town in months. Probably since you and Tony started dating. But I guess you two have been having your own wild times.”
“Yeah. Absolutely.” She frowned and took a long swallow of her now-tepid coffee, ignoring the guilt and telling herself it was a fib, not a lie, and she didn’t have to reveal all her personal details just because Ronnie was a good friend.
The truth was, she and Tony hadn’t had sex in two weeks. During the workweek, their schedules never seemed to mesh, and the past weekend they’d gone out to his parents’. Ella had stayed up so late playing Trivial Pursuit with Tony’s father and sisters that Tony had already been asleep in bed by the time she’d gotten back to their room. She’d thought about waking him but decided he needed the rest.
No more. Tired or not, he was going to have to come over the second he got off the plane from Los Angeles. And she’d even put on something sexy, like that itchy lacy thing he’d bought her for her birthday. She hated the thing, but she knew it would turn him on, and—
“Ella?”
She shook her head, pulling herself back into the conversation with a bright smile. “I guess both you and I have been having our wild times at home. That’s the way it’s supposed to be for you, right? After all, you’re married now.”
At that Ronnie laughed. “Jack doesn’t mind if I go out drinking with the girls.”
“He doesn’t think you’re being frivolous? Or worse, that you’re checking out other guys?” The second the words were out of her mouth, Ella regretted them. Tony wasn’t jealous and he didn’t mind that much that she liked to go out with her friends. Not really. He just wanted her to stay with him, for them to enjoy their time together.
“I haven’t been remotely interested in other guys since the first moment I laid eyes on him, and he knows it. But if I want to check out a few guys for my friends, he doesn’t mind. He spends time with his buddies, too. Just because I got married doesn’t mean I gave up my personality, you know?”
